


Completely Amazing

by sassy_cissa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry, Getting Together, M/M, Schmoop, Unspeakable Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-03 22:32:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2890388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_cissa/pseuds/sassy_cissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things seem destined to be, in spite of anniversary celebrations, running into people in halls, and lunch dates. Or maybe because of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Completely Amazing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alafaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alafaye/gifts).



> Where do I begin? alafaye I loved your prompts for the fest, but fear I may veered completely off the path. To M, L, and B who literally pulled me from the ledge, this a much better story due to their knowledge and discerning eyes. ♥ To the HD Erised mod's who exhibited unfailing patience, I thank you.

  
**Completely Amazing**

_The best thing in life is finding someone who knows all your mistakes and weaknesses and still thinks you're completely amazing._  
\- Unknown

Nothing was quite as dull as the fifth anniversary fête of the downfall of the Dark Lord. One might think it would be a thrilling celebration, a night of sombre remembrance and heartfelt relief. One would be wrong. The politicians' hail-fellow-well-met greetings and the ridiculous social posturing of his fellow guests had left Draco Malfoy bored beyond all rational belief.

He looked around Hogwarts' Great Hall, taking in the tall, round tables scattered around the makeshift dance floor, each one draped in white damask and ribbons of red, green, blue and gold. Small groups of witches and wizards, all decked out in their finest robes, gathered around them and chatted amiably. Others were dancing, and a few wizards seemed intent on never leaving the bar. Couldn't really blame them for that, Draco thought, as he sipped his third firewhisky of the night. Alcohol at least numbed the tedium.

Somewhat.

Draco had done his obligatory amount of hand shaking and chatting with his work associates and now he wondered exactly how soon he could leave before it was considered rude. 

"I know that look, Draco," Pansy said, placing a firm grip on his arm. "You can't leave before the speeches."

Draco suppressed a groan…barely. 

"You begged off the last two because you were _out of the country_ ," Pansy reminded him.

"I was out of the country," Draco hissed, attempting to keep the conversation private. 

Pansy rolled her eyes. "And there was absolutely no way for you to return for an evening. It's not like….oh say you can travel from one place to another by Portkey!"

"I was busy." Draco took another sip of the firewhisky. It left a pleasantly warm feeling in his chest. 

The look Pansy gave him was piercing. "And now you're home and working in the Ministry. How would it look if you left this early?"

Draco sighed. "Then at least let me go to the gent's on my own." He patted her arm as he passed. "I promise to come back after I've finished and washed my hands, Mummy."

Pansy snorted and took a glass of champagne from a passing tray. "You're an arse, you realise."

Draco left the Great Hall and wandered down the hallway to the front doors. He glanced back, relieved to see that Pansy hadn't followed him, and hurried outside. 

The cool, quiet night air rushed over him, a welcome respite from the warmth and the clamour of the Hall. Breathing deeply, Draco stood at the foot of the stairs and looked back at the castle. If you didn't know the building's history, you might never suspect that it had sustained a substantial amount of damage during that final battle. Five years. Merlin, had it really been that long? It felt like yesterday. He looked out onto the grounds, recalling the last time he'd walked out those doors to begin his life again. Nostalgia had him wandering towards the lake. 

He stopped dead in his tracks when he realized he wasn't alone. There, standing by the lake, was Harry Potter. Draco hadn't run into Potter since his return from New York six weeks before. In the years since he'd left London, he'd only seen photos of the man in the _Prophet_ whenever Pansy had tucked one in the packages of jam tartlets and tea biscuits she'd sent over every few months. 

Standing by lake in his dress robes, Potter took Draco's breath away. Gone was the underfed, gangly teenager who'd once pulled Draco to safety on the back of his broom. Potter now had broad shoulders, and if Draco was any judge of men--and he generally was--there were some fairly impressive muscles under that close-fitted robe. His dark hair was still unruly, but it had an ordered messiness to it that lifted in the gentle breeze. 

Before Potter could turn and see him standing there gawking like a bloody fool, Draco turned and quietly hurried back to the gala, slipping back into the Great Hall and sitting in the open seat next to Pansy. He ignored her quelling glare and gestured towards the front of the room just as McGonagall began her speech to thank everyone for attending.

As expected, the next round of speeches lasted far too long for Draco's liking. When the Minister for Magic was winding down his long list of thanks, Draco realized that Potter hadn't given a speech. He elbowed Pansy out of her daze. "What about Potter? Don't we get to hear him tell us how wonderful he was that day?"

"Potter never speaks at these things," Pansy said. "I heard that he told the Minister he'd attend, but wouldn't give a speech." She gave a small laugh, nodding toward the back of the room. "He's generally the first one out the door, even beating your record. I'm surprised he's still here."

Draco drained the remnants of his firewhisky and stood, handing the glass to Pansy. "I'll be back," he said. He slid out of his seat, ignoring the annoyed glare of the witch whose foot he trod upon and headed to the loo for real this time. As he passed Potter, he glanced over at him, catching him mid-yawn. Still attractive, even with that gaping maw. 

Damnation.

As Draco was washing his hands in the loo, the door opened and Potter walked in. Harry looked at Draco and gave a small nod. "Surprised to see you here, Malfoy." He walked over to the urinal and undid his trousers. 

Draco wasn't sure if he should reply, ignore him, or leave. So of course, he continued to wash his hands, scrubbing at them as if attempting to remove some indelible stain. "It seemed the place to be tonight." 

Potter finished with his slash and moved to the sink beside Draco. He turned, resting a hip against the sink. "It's just I've not seen you at one of these before."

"I've been out of the country," Draco replied, drying his hands. They trembled slightly. He could smell Potter's aftershave, all musk and lemongrass. The scent made his heart lurch. He gave Potter a forced smile. "Must be off. People to see, more alcohol to consume." He heard Potter chuckle behind him as the door closed at his back.

In the hallway outside the loo, Draco took a moment to catch his breath. That idiotic attraction he'd felt for Potter back in his teens was back with a vengeance. 

Fuck. He needed that like a case of dragon pox.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Harry sat at his desk with his morning tea. Under his elbow a photo of himself from the gala eyed him angrily from the front page of the _Prophet_. Hermione'd be firecalling soon, either worried that he was out of sorts again or scolding him for not smiling prettily for the camera.

His administrative assistant came bustling in and handed him the morning post. 

"Morning, Edna," Harry said cheerily. "Was it absolutely necessary that you ruin my morning by leaving this _rag_ on my desk?" He nodded his head toward the newspaper. "And by the way," his eyes squinting slightly as he looked at her, "where were you last evening? You'd promised me a dance."

Edna laughed, her age-lined face brightening. "Oh Mr Potter, sir. Ya know as well as I do you never stay at those events long enough for the band to warm up, let alone actually dance at them." The brogue in her voice reminded him of McGonagall, and he recalled he'd not taken the time to chat with her last night either. Stumbling into Malfoy in the loo had thrown him, and he wasn't entirely certain why. 

"Got me there," Harry said with a chuckle. "Edna, mark some time in my calendar next week for a visit to Hogwarts. I'm long overdue for tea with Headmistress McGonagall." 

"Right you are then." Edna bustled about his office, throwing open the drapes at the window. Bright sunlight flooded the room, and Harry winced. He still had a bit of a hangover from all the wine he'd drunk the night before just to make it through the speeches. Edna turned towards him. "As for where I was last night, I was there, just keeping myself to the side where I can watch people. You know it's my favourite part of those events."

Harry rubbed at the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up. "See anything interesting? Any hot gossip I can take to the water cooler?"

Edna scoffed on her way to the door. "As if you'd gossip! Honestly, Auror Potter!" She stopped before walking out, turned and smiled wickedly. "Check out page four. You might find something of interest there."

Harry's brow furrowed as he mulled that over. With a shrug he opened the paper to page four and stared. There in the lower right corner was a shot of Draco Malfoy. He had to admit Malfoy looked good. He was by the bar, leaning casually on the polished wood. He'd grown into his pointy looks and was wearing his hair loose now. Harry wondered whom Malfoy was staring at in the picture. He had a slight smile on his face and looked completely mesmerized. 

Closing the paper, Harry wondered where Malfoy had been when he said he'd been _out of the country_ and what he was doing now that he was back. He was shaken out of his musings when his interoffice link buzzed. Harry sighed and began his day.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Several days later, Harry bolted out of his office, late for a meeting with the Minister of Magic and without a decent excuse. "If Shacklebolt calls down, Edna, tell him I left ten minutes ago and you can't imagine why I'm not there," he said, rushing past his secretary.

"I'll not be lying for you, young man! I don't care if you are Harry Potter!" Edna called to his back. 

"Late, late, late, late…" Harry muttered as he ran down the hall. He skidded around a corner and slammed into a body. The folder he was carrying flew into the air, and Harry reflexively grabbed hold of the pair of arms to steady himself and his victim.

"Buggering fuck," Harry sputtered, looking right at Malfoy. "I didn't see you there, sorry."

Draco wrenched out of Harry's grip. "Apparently. But then again when one barrels down the hall as if their arse is on fire, it becomes difficult to determine if someone might be around a corner," he replied with a hint of laughter in his voice. 

Harry quickly scooped up the papers that had scattered. "I'd love to stay and trade barbs with you, Malfoy, but now I'm ridiculously late to a meeting."

Harry dashed into the lift, his back resting against the wall as it shuddered on its way. His brain was racing with thoughts of what in the world Malfoy was doing in the Ministry, but this wasn't the time. He struggled to get his thoughts in line as the lift rumbled to a stop. The door opened and he quickly made his way to the Minister's office.

Harry slid into an empty seat at the conference table.

"Pleased to see you could join us, Auror Potter," Kingsley said sternly.

"Sorry, Minister, got caught up reading a report then ran into a spot of trouble on my way up here," Harry said, trying to actually sound sorry. 

Kingsley raised an eyebrow in question. "Anything we need to discuss?"

"Not at the moment, but I'd appreciate a bit of your time when we've concluded."

Kingsley nodded and continued the meeting.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Harry sat across the desk from Kingsley.

"Harry," Kingsley began, "I know promptness has never exactly been your strong suit, but I would appreciate you not being late to meetings in which other department representatives are present."

Harry nodded. He knew Kingsley was right, but it still chaffed when he talked to him as if he were a small child.

"Now, what was the trouble you alluded to earlier?" Kingsley's face softened and his mouth drew up into a slight grin. "Or was that simply an attempt to draw my attention from your tardiness?"

"As if that would work," Harry said. "No, I ran into Draco Malfoy on my way here…literally."

"And?"

"Well, I was wondering why he was here." Now that Harry said it out loud, it sounded a bit ridiculous, even to him. 

Kingsley rubbed his forehead and exhaled. "Is it a problem for you?"

Harry blinked. "What? That Malfoy is in the building today? Why would that be a problem?"

"The fact that you felt you needed to speak with me regarding him leads me to believe that his working here is going to be an issue for you." Kingsley's voice was firm and his eyes held steadily on Harry.

The look was not lost on Harry. He struggled not to squirm under the rigid glare. "I was simply surprised to see him--well run into him, sir. I don't anticipate that his being employed here would be cause for concern." He paused, then added, "Sir."

Kingsley snorted. "Cut the _sir_ crap, Harry. We both know you and Draco have a history. Now I'm asking you to be honest with me and tell me if this will become a problem. Draco's very good at his job, and I suspect that your paths will cross often."

Harry's frame relaxed ever so slightly. "No, it won't be a problem. I didn't fight Voldemort to keep the old ways intact. May I ask where he's working?"

"Draco is an Unspeakable," Kingsley replied. "Worshack tells me he's one of his best." They spoke for a few more minutes, until Harry determined he wasn't going to get any more information out of Kingsley. 

Harry got off the lift, heading toward his office, his head swirling with what he had learned about Malfoy. An Unspeakable? Really? He felt as if he'd been suddenly dropped into an alternate reality. 

"Anything come in for me?" he asked Edna, stopping at her desk.

"Nothing, dearie, just the usual interdepartmental twaddle." She looked closely at her boss. "Now what's got you all a dither?" She held up her hand to stop Harry's reply. "You just go on in and sit. I'll bring in a nice cuppa and a few biscuits. You'll be right as rain after some tea."

Harry chuckled but did as he was told. A few minutes later, Edna came in with a tray that she placed on Harry's desk.

"Here, have a cuppa, and whatever is bothering you won't seem so dire."

"Edna," Harry said, stopping her as she turned to go. "Did you know Draco Malfoy is an Unspeakable?"

Edna smiled. "Yes, he's been here nearly six weeks."

"Six weeks!" Harry all but shouted. "How have I not seen him before this?"

"He's been out on an assignment, is what I've heard. Worshack says he's his best."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "So I've heard already today. Thanks, Edna." 

His secretary smiled fondly at Harry and left. He sat pondering why it bothered him that Malfoy had been back for six weeks and no one had told him. And more than that, he couldn't get the sensation of holding Malfoy's solid arms steady in his hands out of his thoughts.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

"Out to lunch, Edna," Harry said, pulling on his coat.

Edna looked up from her filing. "Tell Miss Lovegood I said hello. What culinary delight does she have planned for today?"

Harry grimaced. "Christ, as long as she never makes me go back to Dans le Noir, I don't care where we go."

Edna laughed and waved a file jacket at him. "You've no sense of adventure, young man."

"I'd like to see you try to eat in the dark," Harry countered with a laugh. "Not to mention being served by blind waiters. Anyway, I told her I was in a hurry today so it's off to the chippy for a quick bite."

Twice a month, Harry met Luna for lunch. It was an easy way to keep up, and most importantly, she made Harry laugh. She had such a quirky love for life that, even if Harry was a having a bad day, he felt better by the time he returned to the office.

Harry stepped out of the Floo at the Leaky. "Hey, Tom," he called. "Wish me well—I'm meeting Luna for lunch."

Tom shuddered and shook his head. "Good luck for sure!"

Harry laughed as he passed through and out into Muggle London. He hurried down the street and into his favourite chippy. The bell over the door gave a cheerful tingle as Harry pushed inside. He waved to Scott, the owner, who grinned and tossed his head in the direction of the back of the room. Harry turned and found Luna already sitting with their food on the table.

Harry greeted her with a kiss on her cheek before sliding into the seat across from her. He plucked a chip off the tray and popped it into his mouth. "Mmmm," he sighed. "Seriously, the best thing that's happened to me all day."

Luna nodded. "Yes, I do suppose it's difficult having Draco back in the country."

Harry spluttered, choking on the chip. "Wait! You knew Malfoy was back? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I saw him at the gala we were at a few weeks ago." She furrowed her brow. "I imagine I could have come up to you and told you that evening, but I really thought you'd have seen him there." She reached over and patted Harry on the hand before taking a chip and nibbling it.

"I did see him there. We ran into each other in the men's." He shrugged. "Not much time to talk in there, you know?" 

"Well you do need to watch out for the burbling snorumples. They like to hide out in loos and listen to the gossip. Then they tell someone the secret and then everyone knows."

Harry looked at her, his hand frozen in the air with a bit of fish in his fingers on the way to his mouth. "Snorumples?"

"Of course," Luna said brightly. "How do you think it is some people always know the latest gossip?"

"Myrtle hanging about the first floor girl's loo, for one," Harry pointed out.

Luna shrugged. "I'm sure she was just helping the snorumples. Myrtle's ever so lovely like that. But never mind all that. Let's talk about your Draco being home."

"He's not _my_ Malfoy," Harry objected. "He's not my anything. I've not even seen him in years."

Luna just gave him that terribly annoying serene look of hers. "All right then. How's your godson doing? I saw Andromeda not too long ago in Hogsmeade. I believe you were staying with Teddy so she could do a bit of shopping on her own."

Harry smiled widely. "Teddy's great. He's finally at an age where he's a bit more fun. Andy lets me take him out on my broom – providing I don't go too high or too fast with him. But he's a great kid." Harry's expression changed. "I wonder if Malfoy's ever even met him? They are related after all."

"So you are curious about Draco being back in London?" Luna picked up a chip and chewed it thoughtfully. 

Harry shook his head. "No…well maybe just a little. I mean isn't it odd that he vanishes after we all sit our NEWTS and then he appears again one day and is apparently the darling of the Unspeakable division? Does anyone even know if he's qualified? He didn't train here, you know." Harry stopped at the twinkle in Luna's eyes. "What?"

"You say you don't care, but all you seem to want to talk about is Draco," Luna said cheerfully. She pointed a chip at him. "You've always been a bit obsessed with him."

"I'm not obsessed," Harry sputtered. "Why would you even say that?"

Luna smiled. "Oh, it's fine. I don't mind talking about him. I'm just sorry I don't have the answers you want." She pursed her lips. "Although if I'd known you wanted to discuss Draco, I could have done some research on his whereabouts the past five years."

"Luna, I don't want to know about Malfoy. I don't know where you got the idea that I care about where he's been! Whatever gave you that idea?"

"It's okay, Harry," Luna said with a knowing smile. "It's not that different than during your sixth year." She tilted her head and wrinkled her nose. "The two of you have nearly always been one step away from beating each other senseless." She paused. "Or possibly that was one step away from shagging each other senseless."

Harry stared at her, his mouth open. "You're mental."

Luna reached for another chip, her silver radish earrings bouncing against her cheek. "I've been told that before. I've always thought that it more accurately reflects what the person saying it is actually feeling."

Harry slumped back in his chair. "I don't want to shag Malfoy senseless. That's just—" He bit his lip. Really a brilliant idea, he wanted to say, but he couldn't. 

"Yes, it is," Luna said, with a small smile, almost as if she could read his mind. Harry wasn't sure she couldn't. "If it's any consolation, I think he might feel the same."

"No, it's really not." Harry ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it. "I don't want to think about it."

"That's a pity." Luna took a sip of her water, then poked at her mushy peas. "I was going to suggest maybe you should." She looked over at him. "Snorumples, you know."

Harry just leaned back and sighed.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Draco waited in Pansy's spacious sitting room. The Parkinsons hadn't had to pay out the war remunerations his family had, so Daddy's little girl lived in quite a luxurious flat in the middle of Kensington. Draco was delighted Pansy was happy and doing well, but his patience with her was stretching thin. They'd planned to leave at eleven but now at nearly half past, Draco was done waiting.

"For cripes sake, Parkinson, while I'm still young!" he called up the stairs. 

A rustle at the top drew his gaze and Pansy descended the stairs in heels so high he was surprised her ankles didn't snap. "My, my," she said, amused, "didn't you pick up some quaint phrases in the States? Will you be calling me 'partner' next and asking me if I'd like to water my horse?" 

Draco laughed in spite of himself. "Christ, Pans, I was in New York, not the Wild West. You do know they only speak like that in the old westerns, right?" He looked at her feet dubiously. "How do you expect to shop in those things? You could wound someone if you accidently step on their foot!"

Pansy sighed and pulled a coat from the hall cupboard. "Honestly, you men. Cushioning and stabilizing charms. I _am_ a witch after all."

Draco arched a brow. "Is that what they're calling it now?"

"Just for that, you're buying lunch. I want to eat at Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester, and, just so you're aware, I'm ordering the most expensive, decadent thing on the menu." She swirled past Draco and out the door.

"You really are a bitch," he said, following her out of the flat. 

She laughed lightly and Draco realized just how much he'd missed lunching with her. There was no one in New York like Pansy, he mused. Hell, he told himself, there was no one in the world like Pansy!

After a quick stop in Twilfit & Tattings for some new robes for Draco—the New York wizarding fashions were terribly different from the British this season, much to Draco's dismay–they made their way to The Dorchester. 

"Just how do you plan on getting a table?" Draco asked, as they approached the door of the restaurant. 

Pansy smiled enigmatically and sashayed up to the maître d' stand. "Reservation for Parkinson," she said smoothly. 

Draco shook his head. "I should have known better."

Pansy tucked her hand under Draco's elbow with a bright smile and they followed the waiter to their table.

A quarter-hour later, Pansy sipped her champagne, twirling the delicate flute between her fingers, before setting it on the table. "How's the Ministry?"

Draco had known the question was coming. Pansy never had been one for tip-toeing around anything, and his lack of discussion about his job would only give her reason to wonder and worry. 

"I'm settling in. It's been hard getting used to the formality again. Things in New York are much more laid back." Draco chuckled and reached for his glass of whisky. "Hell, we never wore robes, and meetings were often held in the back room of a bar around the corner. The Minister's brother owned it, so it was never an issue for us to be there."

Pansy nodded. 

"And when they say it's the _city that never sleeps_ , they're not lying." Draco thought back to the whirl and the bustle of New York he'd been so caught up in; it'd been such a different experience from Britain. "No matter what the time of day, you can always find something to do. Times Square is ridiculous, although mostly it's just somewhere for pick-pockets to make a killing."

"You sound like you miss it," Pansy said, sipping more champagne.

Draco sighed. "I'm still not sure I should have come back." He shrugged at Pansy's glare. "I worked hard in New York, Pans. I was well-liked, and I didn't have an infamous name to live up to. No one gave a damn that I was a Malfoy; no one ever mentioned my father to me. I was moving up the ranks pretty quickly, and I'd made a name for myself. I'm good at what I do."

Pansy leaned back in the chair, crossed her legs and lit a cigarette. "Oh don't give me that look, Draco, you're not my father." She blew a smoke ring towards the ceiling; it dissipated around the crystals hanging from a chandelier. "Well I know you didn't miss me." She waved a dismissive hand at his protest. "Don't even. What…three Owls in five years? Well, two years, I'll give you a break for the three years you were training to be a _secret agent_."

Draco laughed, but it was more of a sigh. "I wasn't training to be a _secret agent_. I'm an Unspeakable."

"Same thing," Pansy sniffed. "So who was he?"

"Who was who?" Draco asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Don't play coy, Draco, it doesn't suit. Who were you shagging in New York that kept you too busy to stay in touch?" 

Draco heard the hurt in her tone. "There wasn't anyone, Pans. I really don't have an excuse." He signalled the waiter for another drink for them both. "When I first arrived in New York it was like being on another planet. It was so bright and noisy. Then I started training and pretty much all I did for three years was piss, shower, take classes, sleep and then do it all over again. Christ, it's amazing anyone makes it through that program. But I did, and I liked it."

"And Potter?"

"What about Potter?" Draco replied quickly. 

Pansy raised an eyebrow. She tapped her cigarette, and the ash disappeared mid-air. "You're working in the same building. On the same floor. Surely your paths have crossed by now."

"Only if you count the prat barrelling into me on his way to a meeting with the Minister. Christ, who's late for a meeting with the Minister? Outside of seeing him at the gala, that's been it." Draco swirled the whiskey in his glass. "I don't know, Pans. Maybe I should have stayed in New York."

"Then why did you come back?" Pansy asked. "If you were such a big-shot in the States…" She trailed off. For a moment she looked lost and fragile, like the girl she'd been five years ago. She shifted then, and that calm mask she'd begun to cultivate the day the war ended slid back into place.

Draco paused while the waiter set their lobster and crab consommé on the table. "It was flattering to be asked—well, practically begged—to come back and work for Worshack. He's a big deal with the Unspeakables."

"Was that the only reason?"

Draco knew what she was alluding to. Since the day the words had tumbled out of his alcohol-addled brain, Draco had regretted telling Pansy that he wouldn't mind shagging the daylights out of Potter. She might not remember the name of the bloke she took home last week, but Pansy Parkinson had a memory like an elephant when it came to remembering things he'd rather she forgot.

He took a deep breath. "After I'd proven it to myself, I wanted to show people that I wasn't my father. That I'd done something positive and made something of myself."

Pansy snubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray she'd conjured out of her soup spoon, and then raised her eyes to look directly into his. "Show people or show Potter?"

Draco didn't break her gaze. "Leave it, Pans."

To his surprise, she did.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Summers in the Auror department were a bitch. Days were long and hot and tempers were far too often short. Harry was always happy when autumn winds blew in cooler weather.

He sat leaning back in his desk chair, his feet comfortably resting on his desk when Edna walked in.

"Oh, hell," Harry said on a sigh. "Please don't tell me some idiot has been turning dustbins into large watering cans again. I was just enjoying the quiet."

"Oh no, lad, nothing like that." Edna set a sack of papers on his desk. "I was just wondering if there was a particular reason that you were still sitting here when the monthly unit meeting for Auror team leaders is beginning in the Minister's office in ten minutes?"

Harry pulled his feet from his desk and sat up in an instant. "Crap!" he said, getting to his feet. 

Edna pulled a file off his desk and handed it to him. "Best take this with you, unless you have all the monthly statistics memorized."

"Thanks," Harry said, taking the folder in his hand. "What would I do without you, Edna?" He patted her shoulder lightly. "You make me look far better at this than I really am."

"Just doing my job," she answered. Harry saw the twinkle in her eyes.

An hour later he was heading back to his office. "Christ, that man could talk the bark off a tree," Harry muttered. He turned the corner and walked right in to a solid, non-moving form. His papers scattered across the hallway and a very recognizable voice spoke. 

"For the love of Merlin, Potter! Do you ever look where you're walking or is running personnel down in the hallways your idea of entertainment?"

Harry's brain immediately began to flash ways he could be entertained with Draco Malfoy, and he paused, his hand outstretched towards some papers on the floor.

After a few seconds Harry became aware of fingers snapping near his ear. "Earth to Potter! Hello!"

Harry straightened up and looked at Draco. "That's an interesting turn of phrase. I didn't know you were so versed in Muggle quips."

Draco smiled. "I suspect that the list of what you don't know is endless."

They both bent and moved to pick up papers that were scattered across the floor. When they stood again they were practically nose to nose. Harry could see a smattering of pale freckles across Draco's cheeks and was quite surprised to realize that Draco's eyes weren't just grey—there were flecks of sky blue in them that made them look less icy and imperious.

"Here," Draco said, shoving the papers at Harry, and taking a few steps back. "I should go."

Harry nodded and turned toward the opposite direction. He stopped and turned back. "Malfoy?"

Draco turned around. "Yes?"

Harry didn't know what got into him. "Would you like to go to lunch?" he asked, the words tumbling out in a rush. 

Draco stared. "Excuse me, I must have hit my head when you barrelled into me. Did you just ask me to lunch?

Harry took a deep breath. "Yes. You do eat don't you?"

"Of course I eat." Draco looked at Harry as if he were an idiot. Maybe he was. "Everyone eats."

"Then have lunch with me." Harry smiled. "My treat."

"Why?"

"Why what?" Harry asked, his smile fading. 

"Why me? Why lunch with you? Just…why?" Draco replied, his face a picture of confusion.

"I don't know," Harry replied in frustration. "Because I'm hungry. Because you're here. Because it's fucking Wednesday. Take your pick! Yes or no?"

Draco shook his head. "I must be crazy. Fine, lunch it is. Your treat, but I'm selecting the restaurant. You're not getting off as easy as the falafel truck on Berwick."

Harry laughed. "I didn't suspect I would. I guess that means I shouldn't suggest my favourite chippy then?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Meet me in the Atrium at half one."

Harry nodded, unable to speak if he'd wanted to. Now that Draco had said yes, all he could think was "what the hell have I done?"

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

A little before three Harry walked back into his office. Edna looked up from the report she was editing.

"Well now, that's something I've not seen in quite some time."

Harry looked at her, head tilted. "What?"

"That little smile on your face. It's been a while since you've returned from lunch looking like the cat that ate the canary," she teased.

"I don't!" Harry looked aghast. And then he thought about lunch. Malfoy was actually amusing. Harry had laughed more than he expected, and, other than a few prickly moments, they'd really not argued at all. He smiled again. "Okay, maybe just a bit. Let's just say lunch was more enjoyable than expected."

Over the next week Harry found himself thinking about Malfoy. Not only the lunch they'd had but how different he seemed now. The snarkiness was still there, but there was a playfulness to it now that was quite attractive and appealing.

It was Wednesday again, and Harry had just returned from another boring meeting. He looked at the clock and smiled. Just after twelve. Not for the first time in his life he let instinct take over, and he quickly penned a note and sent it via inter-Ministry mail.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Draco opened the interdepartmental mail envelope and stared at it. On it was one word in nearly illegible script. _Lunch?_ and under it the initials HP.

Inking his quill, Draco replied. _Is this a pathetic excuse for a lunch invitation with you or are you merely inquiring about my dietary habits? I'll assume the latter. Yes, I believe it's been established that I do, in fact, eat lunch._ He smiled to himself and sent the note on its way.

Five minutes later he received a reply. Draco squinted at the messy scrawl. _Yes, you berk, it was a lunch invitation. After your delightful reply I tried to come talk to you, but apparently you need an invitation or a note from the Minister or perhaps the Queen of England to gain access to your department. So once again…yes or no?_

Draco laughed and sent back his reply. _Meet me in the Atrium._ He grabbed his coat from the rack by the door and headed out to meet Harry for lunch.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Harry waited in the Atrium watching the lift as the doors opened. He was beginning to wonder if Malfoy wasn't going to show. When the doors opened this time, Draco came rushing out with his coat half on.

"Sorry," Draco gasped out. "No one ever needs my advice unless I'm trying to get out of the department."

Harry grinned, trying not to laugh. "Yeah, you're never more important than when you're on your way out the door."

"Truer words." 

Taking the lead, Harry began walking toward the visitor's entrance. 

Draco stopped. "Potter, has work addled your brain? The Floos are back that way." He pointed towards the line of hearths.

Harry walked backwards, somehow managing to avoid an older witch, her arms stacked high with file jackets. "We're going out the visitor's entrance. It's closer to where we're eating today."

Draco groaned. "Please tell me this isn't the day you're taking me to the falafel truck."

"Don't be such a snob, Malfoy." Harry grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him along . "Have you ever even eaten there?"

Draco shook his head. 

"Don't knock it until you try it." He laughed at the look of horror on Draco's face. "Not today, however. But I am going to take you to for the best fish and chips in the city." 

"My taste buds may never forgive me," Draco teased. 

They took the visitor's entrance to street level and walked the short distance to the chippy. 

"Hey, Harry," Scott called out, "no Luna today?" He gave Draco an appraising look. 

"Not today, Scott. This is my…" Harry stumbled in an attempt to decide exactly _what_ Draco was to him. "My co-worker, Draco," he finally settled on.

Draco nodded.

Harry ordered for them both, and they sat at a small table in the corner, silent for a few minutes, until Harry decided that was stupid. "What made you decide to train to be an Unspeakable?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"It seemed to fit," Draco replied with a shrug. "I went to New York after the war to get away. I met a few wizards, and one of them was an Unspeakable. He couldn't tell me much about his job, but I did learn about the potions research they do. Research and potions both fascinate me, so I applied."

Harry started to ask something else, but they were interrupted by their food being delivered.

Draco looked down at the tray and inhaled. "Smells good."

Harry beamed. "It's the best. Just the right combination of salt and grease."

"Always a determining factor in my lunch selection," Draco muttered. 

"Just try it," Harry urged.

Draco picked up a piece of fish in his fingers and inspected it before taking a bite. He chewed, then swallowed. "Tasty," he finally said. 

Harry smiled widely and gave Scott a thumbs up.

They ate in companionable silence. Harry spent most of his time watching Draco, hoping that the lack of conversation meant Draco was enjoying the fish and chips. 

Finally, Draco sat back and sighed. "Not a bad choice, Potter." 

"Oh, good, I was afraid you might not have liked it." 

"If I'd not liked it, there wouldn't have been any question about it."

Harry laughed. "So," he said at the same time Draco said, "Now it's my turn to ask the questions."

"Fair enough."

Draco studied him. "No wedding ring, I see. Does that mean you're not responsible for infesting the world with more gingers?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No ring, no children."

"What happened with you and the Weaselette?"

"Don't call her that, Malfoy," Harry protested. "Ginny's all right. But about a year after the war, I figured she should probably date other people when I realized I was much more interested in her brother Charlie's arse than I was in her tits. Bit of a revelation, that."

Draco laughed out loud. "I imagine that didn't go over too well."

Harry shrugged. "I think by then she suspected. Anyway she married Neville, and they have three boys." At Draco's shocked look he clarified, "A set of twins came after the first one." He looked at the clock on the wall. "I hate to say this, but I have a meeting this afternoon, and I really should be getting back."

"Loathe as I am to admit it," Draco said, "that's too bad. I enjoyed myself."

Harry didn't stop smiling all afternoon.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Lunch with Draco on Wednesday became a part of Harry's life as easily as his lunches with Luna had happened. They slipped easily into the pattern of meeting every Wednesday and taking turns at selecting where to eat.

Harry had just finished his mid-morning tea when he was summoned to Head Auror Gill's office. About an hour later he came rushing back.

"Edna, in here please," he called to his assistant as he hurried past. "The whole team has been called out on a sting operation in Glasgow. There's a group of wizards who are mixing potions into Muggle drugs and testing them on the junkies around Possilpark."

Edna nodded and handed Harry the knapsack where he kept his stakeout gear stored. "Should I be notifying anyone you've gone?"

Harry gave her a quick glance. "No need. The operation is all set, we're just going along as extra back-up. Shouldn't take more than a couple of hours."

"Very well." She looked a bit uncomfortable for a moment and then gave Harry a quick hug. "Be careful, Auror Potter."

"I'll be fine, Edna," he said as he returned her hug. "You don't need to worry."

She sniffed, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. "I only say it because I'm too set in my ways to be training another Auror to sit in this office."

Harry threw his Auror cape over his uniform, grabbed his knapsack and hurried back out the door. "I'll be back in time for lunch."

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Draco waited in the Atrium until nearly two. His mood swung the gamut from annoyed to upset, then back to annoyed and eventually outraged. But now that his lunch break was nearly used, he was beginning to worry. Harry had never stood him up before, and something told him he wouldn't, not without cause.

He started toward his office, but at the last moment turned and headed toward the hallway that housed the Auror offices, instead. The moment he came within sight of the double doors that led to the DMLE, he knew something was wrong. It wasn't just that people were running toward what he knew to be an Apparition point; it was the green Healer's robes worn by several of them.

He hurried his steps, pushing his way into the doorway. The interior offices were in an uproar. He saw a male and a female Auror being treated at desks in the outer office, both uniforms singed and blackened with burn marks, angry red burns on their hands. More Aurors were stumbling out through the Apparition point, some clutching injuries, but most looking merely stunned. He heard the word 'ambush' being muttered. Minister Shacklebolt entered through a private door that Draco knew linked his office to the DMLE, and saw the lines of concern on his face. Draco's heart lurched at the sight.

"Unspeakable Malfoy, may I help you?"

Startled, he jumped, then turned. A diminutive woman with brown curls brushed with silver stood calmly looking up at him.

"I…" Draco cleared his throat. "I'm looking for Auror Potter."

She nodded sagely. "I know, but he isn't here."

"He isn't." Draco parroted, feeling unsteady. "Was he… part of this?"

She nodded once. "He was leading this raid actually. I understand if not for his quick thinking, we'd have lost people. As it is, we've about ten with injuries."

"Ten," Draco said faintly. "Is he one of them?"

She frowned for the first time. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but yes. His injuries were serious enough he was sent straight to the emergency department at St. Mungo's."

Draco didn't gasp aloud, but his heart slammed against his ribs. Potter couldn't be hurt that badly, he thought desperately. His injuries couldn't be life threatening, could they?

"I need to go," he said quickly. He turned, and stopped when he felt a hand grip his wrist. He looked back to find the small woman had stepped closer, and her fingers were strong as she held on to him. 

"I'll let your office know where you are," she whispered. "You can use your Unspeakable I.D. to gain admittance to the Emergency ward."

He nodded. "Thank you –"

"Edna," she said. "I'm Auror Potter's assistant. Please tell him I said if his plan was to duck, he failed."

Draco smiled in spite of himself. "I will."

"Thank you. All right, go on with you now."

He thought he saw a tear in her eye but she was turning and bustling away so he couldn't be sure.

Once he was certain the Apparition point was no longer being used by the Aurors to return from their raid, he stepped in and announced "St. Mungo's" as clearly as his tight throat would allow.

The lobby of the wizarding hospital was busy but not unusually so. Draco walked across the marble tile floor, skirting a woman with a small child and a wizard levitating several inches off the floor, his left foot heavily wrapped. Draco approached the special lift that went only to the emergency floor and was only accessible to authorized personnel, when the volunteer guarding it saw him, then stood, her jaw thrust out.

Draco sighed inwardly. Clearly she recognized the distinctive hair. This had never happened in New York and it was one of the things that had made him question his return. But right now, he didn't have time for her issues with his family.

"I'm sorry –" she started. Draco held up his hand to cut her off.

"Get your supervisor."

If anything, her jaw stuck out further. "I don't think –"

"I don't know if you do or not," Draco snapped. "And I don't care. I do know that you need to get your supervisor."

She huffed, jowls trembling, and spoke into the end of her wand. "Mr Desmond, could you come to the emergency lift please?"

Moments later an older wizard with a long grey beard popped into being next to her. He looked at Draco, then looked at his volunteer.

"What's the problem, Maisy?"

She looked at Draco, then put her hand around her mouth. "He's a _Malfoy_ ", she hissed.

Mr Desmond, who Draco knew, looked at him. "I'm aware of that. He's also an Unspeakable. Step aside and let the man go about his business, dear."

" _He's_ an Unspeakable?" She sounded so scandalized that at any other time Draco would have truly enjoyed it. But right then he was desperate to get to the emergency ward, and he wasn't amused. 

"He is," he snapped, stepping around her and pressing the button for the lift. He flashed his I.D. badge at her as he waited. She opened her mouth, but Desmond pulled her away.

"Stand down, dear," he said, sounding faintly amused. "The war is over. Has been for years."

Draco didn't hear her response; the lift doors opened, and he stepped inside.

This particular lift dropped like a stone, and Draco grabbed the handrails as his feet lifted from the floor and his stomach jumped up into his throat. It also stopped abruptly, and he held on, well versed in its idiosyncrasies. When the door slid open, he stepped out into the ward, searching for the mediwitch in charge.

Several of the curtained alcoves were closed off, and staff rushed left and right. After a moment, Draco spotted the mediwitch with a parchment floating in front of her, and he pushed past several harried staff members to reach her.

She looked up at his approach and nodded politely. "Unspeakable Malfoy."

"Mediwitch. Could you direct me to Auror Potter, please?"

She didn't even look surprised. She checked her list.

"Bed seven," she said, turning to point towards it. Draco thanked her absently and approached the curtained bed.

He stopped, his heart pounding and his palms damp. He was afraid, he realized. Afraid to see if Harry was badly injured, afraid he might not want him there. Steeling himself for either possibility, he took the last step and pulled the curtain aside. And his heart sank like a stone.

Potter was lying on a gurney, bare to his waist. There was an ugly burn from his shoulder to the center of his muscular chest, the flesh mottled and weeping. But more concerning was the bloody bandage taped to his forehead. His eyes were closed and his face looked bruised, but at least his chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths. Draco closed the curtain behind him, then crossed to the narrow bed, looking down into the achingly still face. Standing there, he understood something clearly for the first time: he was in love with Harry Potter. He'd been infatuated since the first moment he'd seen him, but this? This wasn't infatuation. The ache in his chest and the tears in his eyes were because the man he loved was lying there hurt, and there wasn't a single thing he could do about.

He reached out without thinking and touched Harry's hand, and held his breath as the black lashes fluttered before the green eyes opened. It took them a moment to focus, but when they did his lips quirked up in a slight smile. "Draco," he breathed, his hand opening. Draco took the hint and slipped his hand into Harry's.

"If this is your pitiful attempt to avoid paying for lunch," Draco said, "I'll have you know the restaurant is my choice next week, and it will cost you."

"You found me out," Harry said, sounding as if he'd been drugged. 

Draco reached back and pulled a stool over, then sat on it. He leaned over, studying the bruising around the bandage at Harry's hairline. "What happened?"

Harry frowned. "It was supposed to be a simple operation. We were just going in for back up. It was an ambush. I need to see my team…" He started to sit up, and Draco caught the shoulder that wasn't burned and held him down.

"Your team is in better shape than you are, Harry. Relax."

"You saw them?" Harry asked, clearly trying to focus. Draco nodded

"I saw several of them, and mostly they seemed to have minor burns."

Harry winced. "The building was supposed to be a potions warehouse, but it was a booby trap. It exploded, then there were curses flying." He grimaced, his hand lifting toward his head. "I think I hit it when the blast threw me back…"

Draco took and released a shuddering breath. "Gods, Harry. You could have been killed."

Harry looked up at him, a lopsided smile on his face. "Careful there, Draco. It'll start to sound like you care."

Draco shook his head. "And if you haven't figured out already that I do, you're even dumber than you look."

Harry looked stunned, but there wasn't time for more conversation. The curtain was swept back, and a Healer stepped into the space.

"Hello," he said, looking at Draco. He offered his hand. "I'm Healer Matthews." He was an American, Draco realized. Probably from somewhere in the Southern States.

"Unspeakable Malfoy," Draco responded, shaking his hand. 

"Well, Auror Potter," Matthews said, turning to Harry, "you're a lucky man. The scan shows no sign of skull fracture. You must have a very hard head."

Harry looked up at Draco. "Not a word," he muttered. Draco fought a smile.

"You do, however, have a concussion," Matthews went on. "The burn can be healed, but there's no quick fix for matters of the skull and brain. Now, you have a couple of choices. We can admit you for observation –"

Harry grimaced. "What's the next choice?"

"You'd need to have someone stay with you and wake you every few hours for the next twenty four."

"I'll stay with him." Draco hadn't even thought about them before the words were out of his mouth. But he found he meant them, and he didn't regret saying them.

"You're sure?" 

Draco looked down into Harry's eyes and found them searching his face, open and guileless. He touched his cheek without a shred of self-consciousness. "I'm sure," he said softly. He ran his thumb along Harry's index finger, and Harry smiled muzzily. 

"All right, let's heal this burn then." Matthews drew his wand and moved the tip close over the ugly burn, murmuring softly as the skin slowly smoothed and cleared. Draco felt some of the tension leach from his body. When Matthews was done with that, he leaned close and removed the dressing on Harry's forehead. "Now, for this pretty thing." The gash was ugly, and Draco grimaced. Again Matthews moved his wand with care and skill, and the cut slowly mended. It followed Harry's hairline, and Draco realized there would be scarcely a scar. 

"Nice work, Healer," Draco said, and the man glanced at him with a smile.

"Thank you." Matthews straightened. "All right, then, I'll go get some pain potions that won't make him any more tired than he already is, and we'll get you out of here."

Harry reached up with his free hand. "Thank you, Healer Matthews," he said as the man shook his hand. 

"You're welcome, Auror Potter. I wondered if I'd meet you while I was doing my residency here at St. Mungo's. I didn't expect it would be the first day!"

He smiled and left them alone. Immediately, Harry's eyes came back to Draco's, and Draco realized he was about to have to explain himself.

"You care about me?" Harry asked, sounding surprisingly vulnerable. Draco lifted the hand Harry wasn't holding, and cupped Harry's face in his palm.

"Yes," he said softly. 

"How much?"

Draco exhaled. "You want me to quantify it for you?"

"I'll go first, if that will help," Harry said. His eyes moved over Draco's face, feature by feature. "I love you," he said finally, and Draco's heart soared. "I think I have for a really long time."

Draco sighed, leaned down and pressed his forehead to Harry's. "I love you, too, Harry," he breathed. "So, so much."

"Gods, I'm glad," Harry replied. "Because I'd have felt really stupid if you hexed me right now."

"Hexed you, no," Draco whispered. "Kissed you? Absolutely."

And changing the angle of his head and leaning in closer, he did.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Epilogue

Harry stirred in his sleep. He was having the most delicious dream. Someone was running a soft hand across his chest. He moaned appreciatively when fingers gently twisted a nipple. "Don't stop," he murmured.

"If you don't wake up and join in the fun pretty soon, I'm going to stop," a low voice whispered in his ear. 

Harry turned toward the voice and opened his eyes, looking into the grey eyes of his new husband. "Good morning," he said before kissing Draco on the cheek. 

"Married less than a day and already just a peck on the cheek," Draco sighed expansively and flopped onto his back.

Harry stretched, poking Draco in the side and laughing at his responding squeak. "I need the loo and I'm sure you'd appreciate at least a Breath-freshening Charm," Harry said, standing and moving toward the loo.

When he returned he crawled back into bed, and lay down next to Draco. Draco remained still, his eyes closed. "You're not asleep," Harry said, running a finger down Draco's chest. 

"Yes, I am," Draco replied. "Sound asleep."

"So then if I did this," Harry said, leaning down and sucking on a pale nipple, "you wouldn't notice?"

"Not a bit," Draco replied breathily.

Harry nipped his way down Draco's abdomen, pausing to rub his cheek against Draco's stirring prick. It felt like velvet against his cheek. "Maybe this?"

Draco growled and pulled Harry’s face against him, his hips lifting. "Fucking tease."

"I never tease about fucking, you should know this by now." Harry straightened on the bed and grabbed Draco's arse in both hands, and pulled his body in tight. Their cocks rubbed together as Harry's mouth covered Draco's. The soft press of lips suddenly turned passionate and needy. 

Harry lifted his head and called out, "Accio lube" and caught it easily as it soared in from the other room. He poured a small amount on his hand and reached around Draco, sliding a finger inside him. 

"Oh gods," Draco moaned. "Just fuck me. I'm still good from last night."

"I won't hurt you," Harry said seriously. 

Draco pressed his hands to Harry's cheeks and looked into his eyes. "And I know you never will, but I'm not a china doll…so trust me when I say I'm ready!"

"Bossy," Harry laughed. He coated his prick with lube, then pressed Draco's knees against his chest. He entered him in one slow, smooth movement, waiting until Draco nodded.

"I told you I was fine,” Draco said breathlessly. 

"So you did," Harry said leaning forward and kissing Draco. "I love you, Draco,” he murmured. With a wink, he raised his hips, nearly pulling out of Draco and moved back in, slowly at first, building to a pounding rhythm. When he shifted slightly to the left, Draco cried out and Harry knew he’d found the right spot. Harry wrapped a hand around Draco's cock and pumped in rhythm with his hips' rapid movements.

"Oh gods, oh gods, love you, love you," Draco chanted over and over, his head moving on the pillow. 

"Love you, too,” Harry panted. "Are you close? Draco, please, tell me you’re close…”

"So close,” Draco gasped. "Oh, gods, Harry. Yes, there. Harder!"

Harry began to pound into him, and soon Draco was shooting white strands of come over their chests with an inarticulate cry. Moments later Harry pulsed his release into his new husband, shuddering as he collapsed on top of him.

He pulled out slowly, immediately missing the feeling of being a part of Draco, and flopped down next to him. He waved his hand to perform a gentle cleansing spell on them both. 

He settled into Draco's side and sighed contentedly. "Think they miss us?"

Draco snorted. "You, probably. Me, I doubt anyone other than Pansy cares that I'm not there."

Harry grinned. His honeymoon was the best reason he could have ever come up with to miss the sixth anniversary gala celebration of the defeat of Voldemort.

fin

**Author's Note:**

> You can leave a comment here or on [Livejournal](http://hd-erised.livejournal.com/38919.html). ♥


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